


Sick Day

by justspn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring Bobby Singer, Gen, Life at Bobby's, Preseries, Sick Dean Winchester, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 21:36:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13579389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justspn/pseuds/justspn
Summary: “Dean, you slept in, it’s almost 7:30,” Sam said, gently shaking Dean’s arm.Dean sat up, vision going black for a second. “Shit,” he said, scrambling up. He felt lightheaded and his throat was still scratchy. He pulled on his work pants and threw on a t-shirt before heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth.“Are you sick or something?” Sam asked, following his older brother down the hallway and into the bathroom.“No, I’m fine, just slept like shit,” Dean said through a mouthful of toothpaste.“Well you look kinda sick,” Sam said, watching Dean with concern.“Even if I was, I still have to go into work. Bobby’s swamped, you know that.” Dean spit into the sink and then went downstairs.





	Sick Day

Dean rolled over in bed and glanced at the clock glowing on his nightstand. Sleep was tugging at his eyelids and his whole body ached but he couldn’t slow his brain down enough to fall asleep. 

Sam was asleep on the other bed, long gangly limbs spread out and hanging off the edge of the mattress. Dean sighed and rolled onto his back, trying to find a position that was comfortable. He cleared his throat, trying to get the scratchy feeling out of it. That didn’t help much, so he got up to get a drink. He didn’t grab a cup, just stuck his mouth under the tap and swallowed the cool water until his throat didn’t seem as raw as it had been. 

XXXXX

Sam looked over at Dean from his side of the room. It was getting late and Dean was supposed to be headed in to work soon. Deciding that he should wake Dean up, he slowly went up to the side of Dean’s bed and reached out to grab Dean’s shoulder. 

“Dean, you slept in, it’s almost 7:30,” Sam said, gently shaking Dean’s arm. 

Dean sat up, vision going black for a second. “Shit,” he said, scrambling up. He felt lightheaded and his throat was still scratchy. He pulled on his work pants and threw on a t-shirt before heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

“Are you sick or something?” Sam asked, following his older brother down the hallway and into the bathroom. 

“No, I’m fine, just slept like shit,” Dean said through a mouthful of toothpaste. 

“Well you look kinda sick,” Sam said, watching Dean with concern.

“Even if I was, I still have to go into work. Bobby’s swamped, you know that.” Dean spit into the sink and then went downstairs. Bobby was already out in the garage so Dean popped a few slices of bread in the toaster and poured himself a glass of orange juice, hoping he could eat it fast and get rid of his lightheadedness before Bobby gave him shit for being late. 

“I’ll see you later. Don’t pass out or anything, okay?” Sam said as he slung his backpack over his shoulder and opened the front door.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t miss the bus, bitch,” Dean said, waving Sam out the door. As soon as Sam was gone, Dean leaned down on the counter, resting his head on his arms. When his toast popped up he sighed and stood up, rubbing at his eyes. He slapped some grape jelly on the toast, downed a few Advil with the last of his juice, and headed out into the garage.

XXXXX

Dinner that night was much quieter than usual. Sam was at a late baseball practice, so it was just Dean and Bobby sitting at the small table in the kitchen. Bobby had made burgers and usually burger night was Dean’s favorite, but tonight he just wanted to go to bed. He took a few bites of his burger and drank some water, but swallowing anything made his throat burn. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Bobby asked gruffly, wiping his fingers on his napkin.

“Just tired is all,” Dean answered, his voice giving out when he wished it wouldn’t. 

“You sick?” Bobby asked, his voice softer now.

Dean shrugged and stood up to clear his plate. “I’ll be fine after I get some sleep.” He could feel Bobby watching him as he tossed his mostly untouched burger in the trash and rinsed his plate off. Just as he was about to start up the stairs Bobby called out to him.

“Come back here for a sec, kiddo.” 

Dean gritted his teeth and turned back around to face Bobby. 

Bobby motioned for him to go up to the table and sit back down. Dean did as he was told, all the while wishing he could just go to bed. “You’re pale,” Bobby stated. 

Dean bit his cheek to keep from rolling his eyes. He knew that this was how Bobby got information out of him, because people stating the obvious drove Dean absolutely crazy and he’d snap before long and tell Bobby exactly what he needed to know. 

Bobby knew that it was how Dean worked, so he kept going. “I noticed you kept leanin’ on your knees at work, like you were dizzy. And you didn’t eat any lunch.”

“Okay, fine, I don’t feel good but like I said, I’ll be all good once I get some sleep,” Dean said, rubbing his hands over his face. 

“Is it your stomach?” Bobby asked.

“No, my throat really hurts. Doesn’t feel good to swallow anything.”

“Let me feel your throat,” Bobby said, standing up to get close enough to Dean to feel his lymph nodes. Dean could tell he was blushing but knew that Bobby would stop pestering him as soon as he figured out there was nothing seriously wrong with Dean. “They’re pretty swollen. Take some Tylenol before you fall asleep, you feel feverish.” 

Dean nodded and stood up, thankful to be out from under the microscope. He scurried up the stairs and into the bathroom to shower before bed.

XXXXX

When Dean woke up the next morning his nose was plugged completely and his throat was killing him. He rolled over to see if Sam was awake yet, but Sam wasn’t in bed. Dean looked over at the clock and saw that it was quarter to 10. He jumped out of bed, got dressed, and went out to the garage to apologize to Bobby. He had almost made it to the back office when everything started to fade green around the edges of his vision. Sitting down seemed like a good idea, but before he could get there his legs gave out on him and he landed in a pile on the floor of the garage. 

Bobby found him a few minutes later. “Jesus Dean, what are you doing out here?” Bobby asked as he crouched next to Dean’s shivering body. 

“I’m sorry for sleeping late, Sam didn’t wake me up,” Dean whispered, unable to talk in a full voice. 

“That’s cause I told him not to, ya idjit. Now let’s get you back to bed. You’re burning up,” Bobby said, lifting Dean by the armpits. 

They made their way back inside where Bobby dumped Dean on the couch. He tossed a blanket over Dean’s body and went into the kitchen to get a glass of water and some Tylenol. “Here, stick this under your tongue,” Bobby said, handing Dean the thermometer. 

Dean did as he was told and closed his eyes, thankful not to be on the cold floor of the garage anymore. 

Bobby took the thermometer away when it beeped and tisked under his breath. 

“What’s it at?” Dean asked, coughing.

“Too high. Now take these and go back to sleep before I have to take you to the emergency room,” Bobby said handing Dean a few pills. Dean swallowed them with difficulty and wiped away the few tears that had fallen during the process, hoping Bobby hadn’t noticed. Of course he did, though. “Your throat hurt that bad?”

Dean nodded sullenly and pulled the blankets up higher around his shoulders. 

Bobby disappeared and Dean could hear him rummaging through a drawer in the kitchen. “Open up,” he said when he came back. Dean saw that he had gone to find a flashlight. “Yeah, looks like strep throat to me. You go back to sleep. I’m gonna see if I can get you into the doctor this afternoon.”

Dean wanted to stop Bobby before he could call the doctor, but if he was being honest with himself, he probably needed to see a doctor. Usually he could just suck it up and deal with whatever was thrown his way, but this time his throat just hurt so much. Not to mention how cold he felt, and just shitty in general. He closed his eyes and let Bobby take care of him. 

XXXXX

“How ya feelin’ kiddo?” Bobby asked once they were in the truck headed home from the doctor’s office. He had been right, Dean had strep and a pretty bad case of it. They gave him some penicillin and sent him home with orders to sleep and drink lots of fluids. 

“I’ve been better,” Dean mumbled, pulling his hoodie sleeves down over his hands. 

Bobby reached out and turned the heat on. “We’ll get ya all up to snuff in no time, you’ll see.”

Dean snuggled down into the front seat and let Bobby’s humming lull him to sleep, thankful that there was someone like Bobby in his life to take care of him when he couldn’t do it himself.


End file.
